


I know you want it

by 24Carrots



Category: Schitt's Creek (TV) RPF
Genre: Lines are blurred for sure, M/M, Rose Apothecary (Schitt's Creek)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:41:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22087330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/24Carrots/pseuds/24Carrots
Summary: Dan and Noah decide what to take home the last day filming at Rose Apothecary. It's either not what you think or exactly what you think.
Relationships: Dan Levy/Noah Reid
Comments: 28
Kudos: 63





	I know you want it

**Author's Note:**

> Don't like RPF? I invite you to use the back button.
> 
> Title is from the song Blurred Lines. I hate it too and I'm sorry, but I hate finding titles more so here we are.

Dan finished a while ago, his mementos from Rose Apothecary in a neat stack by the door—a basket of smaller items, the framed Open Mic poster from the bathroom, a small stool, and a few other odds and ends—so he’s just sitting on the table in the middle dangling his legs. Watching Noah. If he’s in the exact same spot he was during season four’s eye serum application, well, Noah has learned to read that type of thing as coincidence. Reading it as anything else is…at this point he’s learned that generally leads to disappointment.

Noah makes another lap and puts a few more things in a crate, startling as Dan kicks him when he goes by.

“Your face is loud.”

“Yeah?” Noah asks, tapping his finger against the rough wood of the crate. “What’s it saying?”

“General unhappy things.”

“So it's loud but not clear, then?” Dan’s eyebrow quirks up at Noah’s tone. _Snippy_ is how Dan describes it. Noah prefers _wry._ The difference of opinion must occur to both of them at once, because Dan grins, hot and bright, and Noah finds himself glancing shyly at his shoes.

“It’s very loud,” Dan pushes.

“Okay,” Noah says. He’s about to continue his last—hopefully his last—lap around the store when Dan nudges him again with his foot. So apparently his face is still shouting.

“You okay?” Dan asks.

“Okay?” Noah asks. “We wrapped our store. I dunno. It doesn’t seem like I have to be okay yet.”

“Our store,” Dan says, the corner of his lip quivering.

“Whatever. David and Patrick’s store. Rose Apothecary,” Noah elaborates, annoyed. The outburst comes with a gesture that redistributes the items in his crate, a few of them glass, so he sets it on the table to keep them safe. Except now his hands are free and that’s worse because his whole body is probably loud _._ As if Dan hasn’t figured out how to read it at any volume.

“Our store.” Dan’s voice is quiet, his nod almost imperceptible out of the corner of Noah’s eye, because he’s still not making eye contact. He’s aware it’s a defense mechanism, an absolutely essential one, and he’s going to need it as they wrap the last week of filming exterior shots. And Dan hates it. “Hey. Look at me.”

Noah does, thankful for the annoyance now to catch the tears that threaten to flow.

“Have I blurred too many lines with you?” Dan asks.

“Ha!” Noah can’t help the laugh. It startles them both in the quiet space, bouncing off the tile wall and the wood table. Dan winces a little but doesn’t drop his questioning gaze, which is a lot more fucking hot than it has a right to be. “I think you drew a pretty sharp line, Dan.”

“Noah,” Dan says. He reaches out and tugs at the hem of Noah’s white t-shirt, Patrick’s button-up having been draped over a nearby chair after shooting wrapped.

“Did you forget?” Noah asks, stepping closer, almost-but-not-quite between his legs. Dan has to remember. The closer they grew the sharper the line became, the one that was drawn in Dan’s trailer somewhere during season four—Noah can’t even remember what episode they were filming. The line that said I’m technically your boss, and I have to stay on this side and you have to stay on that side. And even though Noah respects the choice, he can think of a million counterarguments. Namely, _what if I’m in love with you and we miss this chance?_ Which is…probably not his strongest argument if he wants an affirmative result from someone like Dan, but it’s an argument that’s been pounding against his head lately.

“I didn’t forget. I just…I don’t know,” Dan says. “Is that all you’re taking from our store?”

Noah’s eyes follow his nod towards the box. Dan's eyes are dark and almost glassy and it’s possible—for the first time Noah thinks maybe it’s possible—that he’s not alone here in his desire to obliterate this last rigid line. He could test it. 

“There’s only one thing I wanted to take home from here,” Noah says. “And it’s not available.”

“Is it something of mine? Honestly I’m a mess.” Dan’s voice is high and his gestures are everywhere and Noah can see the moment he catches on, hands pausing in mid-air. His voice peters out. “I just…grabbed some things.”

Dan’s legs open wider as he bites his lip.

“Daniel?” he says, putting his hands on Dan’s thighs. He’s touched him so many places as David it feels natural and at the same time startlingly, shockingly new. Their eyes lock, the terrified gaze of people who can see everything change before them. Between them. “It’s definitely something of yours.”

“ _Daniel_?” Dan asks, thrown and definitely a little turned on, the curve of his mouth deepening just enough that Noah lets his hands move closer to his hips ever so slowly. “You haven’t called me Daniel since—”

“Daniel,” Noah repeats. It’s been awhile and it feels so good. So fucking good to say it again and see the effect is the same. Stronger maybe.

“I think I said take home whatever you want, didn’t I?” Dan says. His palms graze up and down the sparse hair of Noah’s arms and Noah knows, he _knows_ what Dan’s hands feel like, soft and whisper-quiet, and yet his body reacts like he’s never been touched before.

“Are you telling me to take you home?” Noah asks. He squeezes Dan’s thighs a little, as if either of them need a reminder that this is really fucking real all of a sudden.

“I’m saying if you want to, you can.”

“I haven’t even kissed you yet,” Noah says, stepping the rest of the way into his space. He's so close. He can still see Dan’s eyes, but just barely. It would take almost nothing to close the remaining distance between their lips.

“You’ve kissed me a thousand times,” Dan says. Seven-hundred-and-thirty-five, as of earlier today, but who’s counting?

Noah is counting, but he's not about to admit it. “Been keeping track?” Noah smiles against the scrape of Dan's chin, not quite a kiss.

“Noah,” Dan whines, his hands closing around the back of Noah’s arms, almost pulling like they can will the kiss, the inevitable kiss that won’t come because Noah has a lot of practice hovering right up to this line and he can do this all fucking day.

“That’s not the kind of kiss I mean,” Noah says. And maybe he’s not quite as well-practiced or patient as he thought because Dan’s lips are _right there_ and he can’t not be kissing them for another second. So he does.

It’s different. It's so different. No one is watching, no one is considering the next shot. No one is going to tell him to keep track of his hands or which side his nose is on. Which is good because his hands are moving, his fingers sinking into Dan’s thighs as they travel upward.

Dan tastes like breath mints and smells vaguely like sweet tobacco and somewhere in there is a memory that vanishes before he can place it as Dan’s tongue tests against his lips, sweeps inside once he opens them. And he’s felt so many parts of Dan but not this, not the teasing reach of his tongue and the smooth skin of his back, which his hands find under his sweater, and holy _fucking_ fuck his teeth scraping against his mouth, and Noah is just lost in Dan now.

Noah leans in and Dan has to cling to him, hands fisting his shirt as he hangs on so he doesn't fall back. His leg hooks around Noah’s hips, seeking balance, pulling him closer. It feels so familiar, his lips and his hands and his breath, and so fucking different, the way he moves against him, reckless and aching and uninhibited by watching eyes and arbitrary lines. Noah is starting to lose his own grip on this careful balancing act, a hand flying out from under Dan’s sweater and scattering the prop bottles of shampoo to brace them against the surface of the table next to him. It pulls them both up a bit. Dan shudders a small laugh against his neck, teeth teasing there around his breath. Noah answers by cradling the back of his head and stretching his neck for more as he pulls them both upright, refusing to let go now that he’s found his way to this.

“Come to Italy with me,” Dan gasps, breaths heaving as he tips his head back enough to press a single kiss to Noah’s jaw.

“Italy? I thought that was like your special—”

“It is. Come,” Dan says. “I’m leaving in two weeks. I would have asked sooner, I just…”

“Yeah,” Noah says. He has plans. A play he’s supposed to start rehearsing for and a favor he promised his sister that he can hopefully delay and…Well Dan is looking at him with nearly four years of piled up desires so he’s definitely going to Italy. “Okay. Come home with me tonight?”

“Yeah. Or. Fuck. I have a production meeting at five.”

“I can wait until you’re finished,” Noah says. “Yeah,” Dan says with an apologetic twist of his mouth. Noah has _been_ waiting and Dan knows it. Dan’s been waiting too, maybe, which Noah shouldn't spend too much time thinking about.

“You know, you offer to come home with me before we’ve even kissed. Then one kiss and you invite me to Italy. At this rate if we go on a hike tomorrow after I fuck you tonight I’m going to expect a ring.”

Dan stops mid-slide off the table, comically posed with a toe on the floor.

“Well I have eight to choose from,” he says gamely.

“Mmm. Although I might need to take this a little slower than a proposal tomorrow,” Noah says.

“Okay this is getting weird now,” Dan replies, his face scrunching to try to hide the deep flush spreading up his face.

“You’re right. Sorry.” Noah traces the line of pink across Dan’s cheekbone. “Let’s start with tonight.”

When Dan kisses him, slow and sure, face still hot against his, Noah smiles into it and adds to his new mental tally, _two._ And then leans in for another, shorter and equally sure, _three._

**Author's Note:**

> If you wondering if I only write about the cast taking things home from set you’re right so far. Although I do have a totally different thing in progress. We’ll see if anything comes of it. In any case, thanks for reading.
> 
> If you're interested in drowning in everything-is-ending feelings, [here's an article](https://www.cp24.com/entertainment-news/schitt-s-creek-stars-on-the-emotional-end-to-the-beloved-canadian-comedy-1.4750199) about their last day filming at Rose Apothecary, which inspired this story.


End file.
